Social Situations are a No
by MusketWriting
Summary: It's Boxing Day and the De la Fere family are congregating at Athos' flat this year. It's such bad timing with the arrival of Aramis but the boys hope that maybe being in a family situation will be good for him. Maybe it will but the De la Fere's are notoriously bad at social situations... let's see how they fare. Part Four of the Life of Aramis D'Herblay
1. Chapter 1

Two Athos'?

That one movie that they had settled down to watch had turned into two and then three and by the time they had finished watching the Santa Clause three it was well past midnight and Aramis was having difficulty keeping his eyes open, head lolling on Athos' shoulder where he was curled up practically on top of him. When he had admitted to Porthos that he had never seen The Santa Clause, the big man had been utterly scandalised and had stuttered briefly before surging to his feet, charging into his room and returning with a DVD case clutched in his hand and so the movie marathon had begun. To be completely honest the movie was great but he hadn't really paid that much attention to it, it was much more entertaining to watch the larger man throw back his head and roar with laughter or sit there grinning helplessly like a little child and the short chuckles it drew from Athos that made his body shake where they were connected was way better.

They had eventually called it a night when Aramis had actually fallen asleep, mouth hanging slightly open and arms curling around his torso. They had switched off the TV, chucked out the leftover popcorn much to the horror of Porthos and had returned to scoop Aramis up off the settee where they had allowed him to settle as they tidied up.

"You do know you're going to have to get up early and tidy before Tom gets here" Porthos murmured quietly with arms full of Aramis, "you know what Angelique gets like if she sees mess"

Athos tipped his head back with a groan, "of course I am familiar with how my brother's wife deals with mess. Loudly and with much too much complaining" he had been looking forward to a nice long lie in on boxing day, his brother not being due to arrive until one in the afternoon. Pleasantly late in Athos' books. But no, now he would have to get up at least three hours earlier to tidy because bloody Angelique could give someone with OCD a run for their money. This was _his_ house damnit, it could be as untidy as he wanted it to be!

"You're gettin angry in your head again love" Porthos teased as he gently nudged the door to the guest bedroom open with the toe of his boot.

Athos' shoulders slumped as he sighed heavily, "you know me too well".

"Yes I do, that's why I know that you secretly love it when Angelique comes in and compliments you on 'how lovely your flat looks Athos dear'. Otherwise there would be no draggin you out of bed before mid day regardless of how much shouting awaited you, Mr Snugglemonster" Porthos ribbed gently, chuckling at the flush creeping up Athos cheeks.

Both men reached the bed at the same time and he carefully pulled the covers back on the bed, whilst Porthos gently lowered his precious burden down onto the mattress. Aramis was already cosy in a pair of borrowed pyjamas and so they didn't have to disturb him in order to get him changed, but as Porthos attempted to pull away an unhappy whimper dropped from his lips and the fingers attached to his collar tightened their grip.

After gently prising Aramis' fingers off him, Athos and Porthos carefully tucked the covers up to his chin, Athos resting one hand cautiously against his forehead too feel for any fever returning. Once satisfied they stood in the doorway, lent against each other and gazed at the sleeping man in the bed. Dark eyelashes rested like smudges of ink or tiny black feathers against porcelain cheeks, fluttering ever so slightly in sleep, pale pink lips parted slightly and soft exhales of air drifting musically through the air.

"He's so perfect" Athos whispered in awe, "I can't believe he's actually here"

"I know love, I have to keep pinchin myself" a short shake of the head accompanied his words, "I can't believe that people left him there in that alley"

"It's too cruel to even contemplate" the slighter man grabbed Porthos' hand and began to draw him slowly down the corridor towards the bedroom, squeezing gently to try and dispel the morose expression that seemed so out of place on his usually jolly face. "But we know that from now on he will never be in that position ever again, there should be some comfort in that"

"Yeah I know, you're right"

Neither one of them could bear the thought of sleeping alone that night, each one knowing that if they tried within minutes one would be searching out the other's warm embrace. Wisely they decided to skip the middle man and fell into bed together, curling up in each other's arms and falling into a mostly restful slumber, that was only disturbed by floating thoughts of the man sleeping a few doors down.

The sound of obnoxious ringing was what drew Aramis from sleep, rather rudely in fact, one moment he was having the best dream about a triple cheeseburger and the next he was startled awake by a cacophony of ear bursting bonging.

Okay so maybe that was a little bit of an exaggeration and the bonging wasn't nearly as loud as all that. Unbeknownst to Aramis it was in fact Athos' quaint little doorbell for the flat that his mother had insisted on purchasing for him, claiming to be an exact replica of the bells at Notre Dame.

All Aramis knew was that it was loud and it was annoying.

The Spaniard yawned and stretched widely, the unfamiliar warmth of the bedcovers having drawn him into a deeper sleep than he was used to and threatening to drag him back down again, it felt like he was surfacing from a bed of the stickiest molasses known to man. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his feet met the floor with a muffled thump and he contemplated his state of undress.

Thankfully that problem was immediately solved with little effort on his part as he spotted a pair of brown corduroy trousers, a white t-shirt with a blue vest and a massively oversized woollen cardigan. His skinny frame was greatly emphasised once he had pulled on the borrowed clothes, the top swamped him, sleeves hanging well past his hands and the shoulders of the cardigan threatening to slip off his shoulders with every movement. The trousers hung precariously off his hips and he found himself wishing for a belt as he padded out of the room yawning sleepily, a soft whooshing noise followed him as he walked and he realised that even the trouser legs were dragging along the carpet.

He reached the end of the corridor and emerged into the sitting room, mouth open in preparation to declare his intentions to either cut the borrowed clothes to size or demand new clothes. Not that he ever would have actually gone through with that, he had already imposed upon them enough already without making them spend money on him as well! Thankfully he was saved from having to make a decision as to what to say when he took in the two men sitting on the settee in front of him.

Aramis reached up to rub at his eyes in confusion, thinking that maybe the double vision was a leftover remnant of sleep that had yet to fade and that maybe if he rubbed them it would go away. This action was the undoing of Porthos who had been leaning with arms crossed in the kitchen doorway, tea towel draped over his shoulder and observing the proceedings with undisguised amusement.

"Aww Athos look at im"

Both men on the settee turned in unison to stare at Aramis and he gave a soft whimper of distress, reaching a hand up to grab at his head, god it was happening again! Why now, it had been months since the last episode!

"Es all adorable and mussed" Porthos cried, crossing the room in two giant strides and wrapping his arm around Aramis, removing the white knuckled hand from his hair with deceptive gentleness and giving him a reassuring squeeze. "And look at the oversized clothes, so cute!"

One of the Athos' turned to the other and raised _the_ eyebrow, glancing briefly back at Aramis before speaking, "Athos are those your clothes?"

"Good heavens no!" the other Athos, no the actual Athos declared indignantly, "how big do you think I am! The trousers yes, but the rest are Porthos'"

"Alright, keep your hat on" the other man responded laughing softly.

Now that Aramis was slightly calmer and had recovered from the shock of everything, he was able to see that although they did look very similar, there were indeed slight differences between them that singled them out as two different people. This one was slightly younger looking and had no beard, his hair was also a little tamer, but he had the same warm eyes as Athos and the same talent with wielding his eyebrows as weapons of mass expression.  
It all added up to lead Aramis to believe that they had to be brothers or in the very least related, either that or Athos had managed to somehow miraculously find his doppelganger whilst he had been asleep.

"Athos" Porthos' tone held a note of warning and he jerked his head towards Aramis whose hands had been growing steadily whiter and were beginning to shake quite violently.

Thankfully Athos was nothing if not observant and quickly caught on, "Ah Aramis, I almost forgot" he gestured shortly to the man sitting next to him "this is my younger brother Thomas, he likes to pop around early while his wife shops for last minute Boxing Day food items and have a chat, before the whirlwind that is the rest of the family arrives"

"Ah, I see" he choked out meekly, tugging at Porthos' restraining hand as the phantom aching in his head reached a higher pitch, "nice to meet you"

The next second a pair of slender hands were cupping his cheeks and gently manoeuvring his head from side to side and staring intently into his eyes, it was a little bit scary to tell the truth.

"Wherever you think you are, you aren't" Thomas began earnestly "you are here in my boring brother's flat and perfectly safe. Nothing will harm you"

"Umm what?"

He was manhandled onto the settee next to a very bemused looking Athos who merely shrugged helplessly when Aramis looked to him for explanation.

A hand brushed at his scalp where he was forever tugging and he flinched away violently, colliding heavily with Athos and scrambling backwards as much as he could. Hand outstretched to ward away any further attempts at touching.

"Sss stay away from me, ssstay away!" the panic and adrenaline flooding through his system was obvious in his stammering words and the utter terror written across his face.

"Shhh it's alright, i'm not going to hurt you... Aramis right?"

"Leave me alone please, i'm sorry so sorry please i'm sorry"

The litany of whispered words continued and finally Athos couldn't endure anymore of the heartbreaking pleas and gathered the man that was sprawled awkwardly across him up into an embrace. He was curled up on his lap, face buried in his chest as he sobbed and continued to apologise and plead to be left alone.

"Did you have to go all psychoanalysis on him Tom" Athos reproached his younger brother whose expression had fallen into one that was a little constipated, seeming unable to decide upon guilt or empathy and settling upon a mix of the two that was unfortunately unattractive.

"I'm sorry 'Thos, I couldn't help it. You know how I am when someone is so obviously suffering from some kind of trauma, he even had a tell! How was I supposed to resist?" At the genuine remorse in his brothers tone, he relaxed slightly and simply sighed, and his mother wondered why they didn't have many friends and couldn't handle social situations.

There it was right there, they simply had no social awareness and it wasn't even tempered by self control in his brother's case, he marvelled at how Thomas had managed to find such a fantastic woman to be his wife.

The next second the doorbell rang and in the tense silence of the sitting room it sounded like a gunshot, startling the already flighty Aramis who jumped as if he had been electrocuted and then began his mantra once more with increased fervour.

"Get the door would you Porthos, it's probably Angelique. I'm going to see if I can get him to calm down and then" here he shot a menacing look at his brother "then we are going to act like nothing happened and talk about happy, christmassy things. Have a nice calm Boxing Day, survive our parents and then, and only then are we going to broach this subject again... are we clear?"

"Crystal" with a mock salute and a sketched bow Thomas was up and at the door in a matter of seconds, revealing a small pixie-ish woman with long brown hair and startling green eyes.

"Alright where's my grumpy brother-in- law" she exclaimed with a big smile, hurrying into the flat with her arms spread wide in anticipation of a hug. She froze in her tracks as Athos gave her the _glare_ and took in the sight of the stoic man cradling another, beating a hasty retreat into the kitchen she turned to Porthos.

"Spill it"

A/N: So part of the family has arrived! Next chapter, hopefully Aramis will have recovered but we'll see how that goes, and the parents finally show up. Look out for the next chapter and as usual please read and review and I am always open to suggestions! Thanks as well for all the lovely feedback, I read all reviews but am absolutely terrible at responding so I just thought I would say that you guys are all amazing and I take everything you say into account when I write the next chapter so I hope you keep reading! Thanks :D


	2. Chapter 2

It Is Well and Truly Spilt

A/N: Enjoy guys :D

Porthos huffed out an exhausted sigh, she may be small but Angelique was a terribly intimidating woman, her head barely reached halfway up his chest and yet she had drawn the story from his lips without breaking a sweat. All it had taken was that scary pointing finger and he had melted, every single detail that had been etched into his memories from the past few days and any information that Aramis had let slip in between, flowed from his lips with no resistance at all.

Once he had finished she merely stood there with her arms folded, lips pursed and brow furrowed thoughtfully, evidently giving much contemplation to the tale she had been told.

"So you are telling me that my taciturn brother in law, not only allowed you to bring some strange man into the house but seems to enjoy his presence?" she asked sceptically

"That is precisely what I'm saying although not in those exact words" Porthos agreed, pressing a mug of spiced tea into her hands and gently shepherding her towards the doorway "just take a look for yourself"

She returned to the sitting room, mind flashing briefly back to the scene that she had first walked in on, and yes that had indeed been uncharacteristic for Athos and had seemed as if he genuinely cared for this new man. But, and it was a big but… that didn't necessarily mean that he had approved of or initiated the situation.

When her eyes landed on the three men sat upon the settee, she could no longer deny the fact that the usually introverted man was willingly touching someone else, and was having a perfectly polite and in depth conversation with another human being, without looking like he was inches from a panic attack or tearing his hair out.

Well that was a new one on her.

Meanwhile, the three men lounged in a relatively relaxed state upon the couch. Athos had managed to talk Aramis down from the precipice he was teetering upon, clinging to the edge with his very fingernails as his emotional balance messed around on a seesaw.

Aramis lay curled upon Athos' chest, fingers clutching at his collar whilst the other man stroked a comforting hand up and down his arm. He levelled a contemplative gaze at Thomas, who was sitting banished to the other end of the settee, bracing himself for another possible panic inducing interrogation.

"It's alright, i'm not going to pressure you again, I promise"

The promise set his jarring nerves at ease but he couldn't help the reproach that settled in his tired eyes.

"Really, you can trust me. It's just... Athos and I have never been very good with people, I blame private schooling."

"Don't drag me into this" Athos protested from above his head, fingers tightening upon his arm slightly. "I am perfectly fine with people... I just don't really like them"

A startled giggle burst from Aramis that he couldn't manage to contain, despite having only known him for about a day he felt that was a perfect description of the man's evasion of fellow humans. He was a little withdrawn, and Porthos had told him about Athos' reaction to the crowds on Christmas Eve much to the man's disgruntlement, but he just genuinely seemed to dislike having to deal with people. The only exception being those that he knew or was comfortable with, and Aramis had quickly become one of those special few. However he did have his suspicions that maybe Athos liked people more than he let on, but was just painfully socially awkward.

Oh well that was a conversation for another day.

"Oh yes i'm sure you are, I won't even mention Alicia from Year eight then?" Thomas teased, blue eyes glinting with mischief.

"No, you're right, you won't" a spectacular grimace was fixed upon Athos' face as he shuddered at the memory of that spectacularly disastrous occasion, back when he was only twelve years old and had attempted his first conversation with a girl. A memory he would rather erase from his mind and leave behind not even the slightest trace, preferably with some very strong bleach.

At that moment Porthos and Angelique invaded, one settling next to Athos and tugging Aramis legs onto his lap and holding them there with large hands resting on his bony ankles and the latter sinking into the armchair closest to her wayward husband, fixing him with her best 'I am not impressed' eyes.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Thomas cried, hands raised in the universal sign for surrender, knowing better than to even attempt arguing or justifying himself to his angry wife.

"So, Aramis, it's lovely to meet you" she smiled warmly, turning her attention to the man pile on the other side of the settee, "I'm Angelique, this fool's wife and Athos' sister in law. Porthos tells me that you sew?"

"Um it's nice to meet you too" he twisted his fingers in his lap nervously "Yeah I do, my mum taught me and we used to make dresses and things like that, embroidering flowers was my favourite"

The blissful smile that blossomed across his face seemed to illuminate the room and the atmosphere became much more pleasant as the conversation turned to lighter things. Angelique and Aramis continued to discuss the finer points of the art of embroidery, she having been something of an enthusiast in her younger years and he was more than happy to have a kindred spirit to rekindle his passion with. Porthos, Athos and Thomas alternated between discussing Porthos' most recent recipes, how Athos' latest manuscript was coming along and simply observing the other two gush.

The clock struck half past one, its loud bonging flooding the room with ripples of noise, startling the occupants into silence.

Athos narrowed his eyes at his brother "you were really early" he drew out the words in disgust, "you've been here for over an hour, you were early!"

"Better to be early than late, I always say"

"Since when have you said that, you never say that. I distinctly remember having to cover for you on multiple occasions because you were late after having overslept"

"I have grown wise with old age" Thomas joked "whereas you were always old, a fifty year old in a fifteen year olds body"

Thomas was saved from his older brothers scathing verbal retaliation for that barb by the chiming of the pompous doorbell. A squeak of delight from outside the door immediately gave away who exactly was disturbing them and Athos sighed in resignation.

"I'll get it" he gently tipped Aramis off his lap and onto the settee beside him before slouching off to pull the door open. "Hello mother"

"Ahh my baby!" Athos was engulfed by swathes of green material, the cape like coat his mother was drowning in being thrown around him with her arms. "It's so good to see you, Merry Christmas! Oh and you used the doorbell!"

He patted his mothers back gingerly and aimed a plea for help at his father. The former Comte de La Fere was resplendent in a charcoal grey suit, black undershirt and silver fleur de lis cufflinks, his shoes shone with an almost supernatural light that could only have been the result of copious amounts of shoe polish and elbow grease. It was obvious where the boys had gotten their piercing blue eyes from, although they were slightly hidden underneath bushy salt and pepper brows they still held the same expressive qualities and the ability to look straight into your soul.

Athos recognised the wry smirk curling his father's lips and resigned himself to getting no assistance from that quarter, the man was probably just glad his wife was hanging off someone else for a change. "Mother it's very nice to see you too but is there any chance you could possibly release me, I seem to be struggling to breathe for some reason?"

An oomph was drawn from him as his mother delivered a sound smack to his shoulder whilst thankfully pulling back and holding him at arms length in front of her, keeping up a running commentary of how skinny he had become and that he looked like he wasn't sleeping well and let's not forget how lovely that shirt looks!

"Mother would you please"

She finally settled into her more usual self, turning to draw her poor unfortunate husband into the room from where he had been imprisoned in the hallway by the four legged monster hug blocking the doorway.

Slightly nervous to be facing his father for the first time since he had quit the family company, Athos straightened his back and stood stiffly, extending his hand politely for a handshake. Those familiar eyes that had always been full of paternal affection and love now were unreadable as they stared steadily at him. His shoulders dropped from around his ears as his hand was enveloped in his father's much larger and warmer hand, he was startled though as he was drawn into a hug, their joint hands trapped between their bodies and his father's other hand cupping the back of his head.

"I've missed you son" he whispered into his ear, so quietly that Athos might have thought he was imagining it if not for the warmth of his breath against his face and certainly so quiet that no one else in the room would hear.

"I've missed you too. Now let's enjoy Boxing Day before mum gets it into her head that we now like physical contact"

They broke apart, smoothing down their respective suits and steadfastly ignoring the moony eyes his mother was giving them and turning to face the rest of the room.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Thomas exclaimed, standing and throwing his arms wide in demand for his own welcoming hugs and scowling when they were not forthcoming.

Instead everyone's attention was focussed on Porthos whose hand was held in a white knuckled grip by Aramis. His wide brown eyes were fixed on the two new people who had crashed into the apartment in an explosion of noise, in particular Athos' mother.

"Mother, Father this is our new friend - "

"Aramis" Celine breathed in shock

"Well yes, we found him on Christmas Eve... wait how do you know his name?"

"Little René d'Herblay is that really you?"

"Umm yes ma'am" Aramis nodded, grip tightening impossibly further, "you still wear the coat ma'am, i'm glad"

"None of this ma'am nonsense, its ' ' and you know it" she scolded, completely ignorant of the nonplussed expressions of the rest of the family, "where have you been?"

"Mother as I was saying" Athos interrupted frowning, troubled "we stumbled upon him living in an alleyway and struck by fever on Christmas Eve, brought him back here and made him stay"

"Walter, you remember René d'Herblay" she refrained from answering her son.

"Of course, it's good to see you again son" he smiled and gave Aramis a little nod.

"MOTHER!"

The entire room froze and swivelled tentatively to face a fuming Athos, you could almost see the smoke furling from his ears, fists clenched tightly at his sides and scowl carved deeply into his features.

"This is MY house, these are my friends and I want no I NEED you to explain what is going on"

"Mum" Thomas interrupted softly, "do it" aiming a meaningful look at his brother.

"Oh you boys wouldn't remember but when you were younger we had a seamstress, her name was Agustina d'Herblay and her son Rene would come with her. Such a sweet little boy, always rambling away in Spanish to his little dolls and helping his mother with the sewing. After a couple of years she made me this most beautiful coat, then the next day they had disappeared into thin air, not a trace of them remained. I searched of course I did but.. nothing. I can't believe _you_ don't remember him at all Olivier!"

"Olivier?" Aramis breathed in wonder, "Athos, you're Olivier!"

The sheer joy shining in his misty eyes was breathtaking and Porthos clutched at his chest "jeez warn a guy would you, that's a lethal weapon!"

Athos brows knitted together as he cast his very fuzzy mind back to his childhood in the La Fere mansion, when he had been of that age and much more carefree it had been a magical place to grow up.

An enormous house with countless rooms to explore, hidden staircases shrouded in mystery and covered by wardrobes or hanging tapestries, even behind the shelves in the kitchen. One day he remembered escaping the witchy talons of his most recent governess, running happily down one of the long oak panelled corridors and skidding to a halt in front of the bright bay window at the end. One of the panes was open and despite it being the middle of summer, a brusque wind was blowing through the trees and a light tapestry that was hung beside it flapped in the wind like it was alive. Curious, he pulled it aside further and revealed an ancient wooden door, hinges tarnished a vivid red with rust and wood rotting away in little splinters. The golden ring of the doorknocker was cool to the touch and he tugged with as much strength as he could manage, cheering as the door creaked open an inch and he squeezed his way through the miniscule gap. He spared barely more than a moment's thought for the new rip he had acquired in his shorts and the inevitable tongue lashing his mother would grace him with. Grimacing in disgust he gingerly inched down the stone steps, breath held as his feet slipped on moss and mould that had built up over the years from the damp environment and gave the steps a slippery, slimy coating that threatened to send him on a dangerous tumble straight to the bottom.

A heavy gust of breath escaped his lips as he finally reached flat ground and the density of the pitch blackness was pierced by a large rectangle of light that could be nothing other than a doorway. Goosebumps erupted along the flesh of his arms as he stretched his arms out in front of him and pushed until the door swung outwards. It turned out that he had emerged from behind a large cabinet which was groaning under the weight of crockery, and he stood shivering, arms crossed nervously across his body and bare legs trembling within his navy suede shorts. The reason for his sudden attack of nerves was the young boy perched on the edge of a wooden stool, curly shock of hair brushing his shoulders and strands falling into warm chocolate coloured eyes. His skinny frame was covered with a linen shirt, baggy black trousers and an oversized cable knit jumper that hung slightly off one bony shoulder. His lean hands were occupied with a white blouse and a wickedly sharp needle which he was using with immense skill to embroider a vibrant yellow sunflower, neat stitches slowly building up to form immaculate golden petals.

"Who are you?" Athos asked curiously, creeping closer to the tune of his shoes tip tapping on the marble floor "I've never seen you before"

The tanned boy smiled shyly and peered up at him through his fringe, "soy René, no he visto tú también"

"You're Spanish!" Athos exclaimed in surprised delight, "I'm learning right now, encantado de conocerte" he intoned in stumbling Spanish.

The boy, René laughed elatedly and so began a beautiful friendship. The two spent hours upon hours chattering away together, Athos teaching René French and him Spanish, once the Spaniard had finished helping his mother with the embroidery they would flee out into the fields of the La Fere estate, messing around with sticks as swords or galloping around like horses. The two were inseparable and for once in his admittedly short life, Athos felt absolutely no anxiety or desire to escape when conversing with the other boy and he found spending time in another's company to be surprisingly pleasant.

Then one day they both just disappeared.

Athos had been inconsolable, moping around the house and refusing to speak a single word to either his parents or his younger brother who at the tender age of three couldn't understand why his beloved big brother now seemed to hate him. He no longer explored the house, confining himself to his bedroom and the library were his governess desperately attempted to coax him into enthusiasm for his lessons, but all he really had the energy for was to sit in the cushioned comfort of his bay window and sob heartbrokenly onto the worn pages of The Three Musketeers.

It had taken months for him to regain his equilibrium and then one day he just turned up at the breakfast table, back to his former introverted self and when questioned had no knowledge of little René at all. It seemed that his traumatised mind had erased all memories of that time as a self defence mechanism.

But not all was lost.

The Dumas book remained a permanent feature in his day to day life until he could recite passages off by heart, he had taken up fencing as soon as possible and from that day on refused to be known as anything but Athos, the name Olivier firmly in his past.

Athos surfaced from the depths of his memories with a gasp, like a wave had broken across his head and he was finally breathing properly again for the first time in years.

"You always called me Athos" he murmured in wonder, "and we promised that we would find someone to be our Porthos."

"Si, es verdad" the Spaniard nodded, tears trickling down his cheeks, except for the first time in years they were tears of joy, " mi hermano, no se puede saber cuanto te he hechado de menos"

The two embraced tightly, Athos clutching at Aramis as strongly as he had earlier, if not more so. Having both his memories of his best friend and his best friend himself returned to him in the same day, it was almost more than his fragile and underused emotions could handle.

"This calls for some Porthos specials" said man called, heading for the kitchen and plying everyone with mugs of his special version of eggnog and corralling them into seats.

A/N: Well there we go, that's why they have the names from the Musketeers :D Hope you liked Athos and Aramis knowing each other as kids, please let me know what you think! Next time we find out why they disappeared and the family just have a genuinely nice time on Boxing Day :D


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